Children, Go Where I Send You
by StrangeLittleSwirl
Summary: Merry Christmas, Amon" We've got fluff in Large, Medium, and Small, and in a variety of colors...and now, a proposal from the author...
1. Ch 1: I Think It's Going to Rain Today

Children, Go Where I Send You 

Author: Rose With Thorns

Robin and Amon are in hiding, living day by day, while Amon's powers are growing.  Little by little, while learning more about Robin's past, Amon may discover who he is.

Rating: PG-13, but it may go up

Pairing: RobinxAmon

Chapter One: I Think It's Going to Rain Today

Broken windows and empty hallways  
A pale dead moon in the sky streaked with gray  
Human kindness is overflowing  
And I think it's going to rain today  
  
Scarecrows dressed in the latest styles  
With frozen smiles to chase love away  
Human kindness is overflowing  
And I think it's going to rain today  
  
Lonely, lonely  
Tin can at my feet  
Think I'll kick it down the street  
That's the way to treat a friend  
  
Bright before me the signs implore me  
To help the needy and show them the way  
Human kindness is overflowing  
And I think it's going to rain today

            It always rained in London.  Always.

            Robin leaned against the window, her forehead against the glass.  On the street below she could see Amon's outline in the phone booth, his black silhouette in stark contrast with the red of the booth.  She'd seen them in books as a child, but never thought they were real.

            She never would have thought that the child of the Devil was real, either.

            She watched his shoulders slump as he placed the phone back, and then exit the booth.  This had become a routine.  She'd stand across the street or near by and watch; always making sure he never saw her watching.  Robin slipped from her perch, back to her room.

            Two months.  It'd been two months of running and calling for information. Salomon had questioned Nagira, but he'd told them that they were only half brothers, and that they barely spoke as children.  They'd believed the lie.

            "Robin."

            She turned around.  Amon stood in the doorway, his hair wet and water still dripping from his coat in rivets.  "Hai?"

            "We'll be leaving in the morning.  You should pack."

            "Where are we headed this time?"  She handed him a towel.

            "Ireland."

            She nodded, and moved into the bedroom.

            _Their_ bedroom.  They rented one-bedroom hotel rooms since Salomon would be looking for two people.  She still flushed, every time they'd check in.  Along the way Amon had purchased two plain, golden bands.  Seeing the bands seemed to cause less suspicion among clerks at the front desk.  The first motel, at two in the morning, had declined their request for a room on account of the fact that they didn't allow business of 'that' kind.

            She barely owned anything other than the clothing on her back. She kept the small photograph of her mother with her, in her pocket, her glasses were constantly on, a bible, and a few pieces of clothing, all kept in a small sac she kept with her.

            Amon had entered the bathroom, and as much as she hated to do it, she knocked on the door.

            "What?" he was annoyed, obviously.

            "Gomen, Amon.  I just wanted to let you know I was going to the church."

            She could hear the sigh.  "Where is it?"

            "It's just around the corner."           

            "Fine."

            Amon stared at his reflection.  He felt…

            Dark.

            He needed to get rid of that feeling.  He'd been living with it for so long now…

            Cupping his hands together he splashed his face, the stubble saw getting worse.  He hadn't shave in a while.  He really should, in fact, just the other day, Robin had…

            Robin.

            Her name had become a prayer for him so long ago that now he closed his eyes and inhaled.  The bathroom still smelled of her bath.  He frowned, suddenly realizing she left with wet hair.  He'd seen her on the window sear watching him, wet tendrils of dark blond hair sticking to the sides of her face.

            He had let his disappointment show, and she'd seen it.  That was probably why she was going to church.  He put his holster back on and threw on his coat.  He should make sure she was okay.

            "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.  It has been three weeks since my last confession."

            "Tell me your sins, child."

            Robin took a breath.  "I-" it didn't come out, instead, something else came out.  "I sometimes…feel like I am alone.  And I know that God is with me, but…"

            "God shall never leave you alone.  He shall always be with you in some form."

            She closed her eyes, relieved to hear that.  "And for penance, father?"

            "An Our Father and a Hail Mary, child, though I must say, these feelings are quite normal."

            He started to murmur those words that always comforted her, and she walked over to a pew to pray.

            Amon walked apprehensively into the church.  He'd never been one for worship, and the environment had always made him feel uneasy.

            Candles seemed to be everywhere, and for a moment, he couldn't find her.  His hand went to his holster. 

            A couple moved and her dark hair gave her away, contrasting with the black of her clothing.  She had long ago thrown away the constrictive bustle and trench coat, as had he.  Her cranberry pea coat was on the seat next to her, and the thick sweater she wore was a size too big.  Her head was dipped in prayer.  He took a seat behind her.

            "…Now and at the hour of our death, Amen."  She crossed herself, and after genuflecting, turned, but gasped when she saw Amon

            He held out her coat for her, and she flushed.  "Dono, Amon."

            She sat up, panting.  It had happened again, that horrible feeling that always came when a witch was hunted.  Little by little she was becoming more aware of witches around, of their pain, their suffering.  Amon, upon seeing that she was bored a week ago, thought that going to Stonehenge was a novel idea, but it had only resulted in their hurried departure.  Historians were wrong.  Stonehenge had been used for the trials and murders of witches.  Their cries still pierced her thoughts every now and then.

            She held the blankets to herself, shivering from the chill.  They kept hadn't put on the heat.  Amon never complained, and Robin's many nights in the Abby had left her with thankfulness for thick blankets, alone.  She mentally cursed herself for wearing only a thin shirt.

            She padded into the other room, where the bar refrigerator and coffee maker was.  She had started a pot of coffee before she'd gone to bed, knowing that she'd wake.  Robin gripped the cup heavily for warmth, a small grin escaping as the coffee's rich taste hit her tongue.

            "It was a little girl this time, Amon." She knew he was behind her.  She hadn't wanted to let on that she knew, but she had started to be able to sense his presence.  It was fainter than most, but still there.  He sat down across from her.  "So young.  She didn't know better."

            "Where?"

            "Europe…Spain, I think."

            "As long as they're not close to us."

            "But Amon, she was only trying to stop them from hitting her with a stick!" she slammed the coffee down, and it sloshed over the side.

            "It is too late…rather, too early, to be having this childish conversation."

            Robin looked away.  He was so insensitive.  "I just feel it's wrong, Amon," she said quietly.  "Why should she suffer because of something she can't control?"

            "I could ask the same of you."

            She took a napkin and started to clean up the spill.  "I have accepted what I am, even if I really don't know what it is.  A seven year old cannot understand something as…as different as being a Witch is."

            "I can say the same about a fifteen year old."  Those last words stung.  Tears formed at the corners of her eyes.

            "You are cruel, Amon."  Robin got up from the table, and retreated through the bedroom door.

            His head hit his hands.  He _was_ cruel, and he knew it. It was for her own good, really.

            Wasn't it?

            He walked back into the bedroom; her covers were over her head, a few strands sticking out over the top.  Amon started to lie back down, but he crossed the small distance between their beds and sat on the edge of hers.  She lowered the coverlet slowly.

            "I was a little-"

            "No."

            Her green eyes met his with surprise.

            "No.  You weren't being childish.  You're never immature, Robin.  I apologize."

            She sat up, her head slightly to one side.  He tried to keep still.  The faintest movement and she'd know what he was thinking.

            "How long will we be in Ireland?"

            "Until Nagira finds more information pointing to somewhere else or until we meet up with any more Hunters.  We've been lucky, so far."

            Robin smiled.  "It is because you are watching out for me."  Her eyes fell upon his arm.  Someone trying to lift some money off of him had shot him two weeks ago.  By far, the would-be burglar had been injured far worse.  "Maybe you'd be better off without me, though."

            "I stay because someone needs to look after you, Robin.  In case you loose-"

            "Control.  I know Amon."

            Amon got up from the bed.  They'd been around each other too long.  "Get some sleep, Robin.  Our flight is at nine."

            He got onto his bed, but could barely sleep.  The image of a young girl with tears in her eyes haunted his memory.  He could feel that somehow, the manner in which they had been living was now being challenged.

            By each other.


	2. Ch 2: Be My Husband

Chapter 2: Be My Husband 

Be my husband man I be your wife  
Be my husband man I be your wife  
Be my husband man I be your wife  
Loving all of you the rest of your life yeah  
  
If you promise me you'll be my man  
If you promise me you'll be my man  
If you promise me you'll be my man  
I will love you the best I can yeah  
  
Stick the promise man you made me  
Stick the promise man that you made me  
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah  
Stick the promise man you made me  
That you stay away from rosalie yeah  
  
Oh daddy love me good  
Oh daddy now love me good  
Oh daddy love me good  
Oh daddy now love me good  
  
If you want me to cook and sew  
If you want me to cook and sew  
If you want me to cook and sew yeah  
Outside of you there is no place to go  
  
Please don't treat me so doggone mean  
Please don't treat me so doggone mean  
Please don't treat me so now doggone mean yeah  
You're the meanest man I ever see  
  
Oh daddy now love me good  
Oh daddy love me good yeah  
Oh daddy love me good yeah  
Oh daddy now love me good

            "Robin," he shook her arm, and she sat up, the blankets dropping.  At that moment, a part of him he didn't very much like right then, wished she hadn't been wearing that shirt.

            It had been his at one point.  As a matter of fact, it still _was_ his shirt.  A very strange feeling in his stomach that he didn't really recognize took over and he quickly left the room.

            On the couch was his suitcase.  It was lined with lead and foam-padded, fitted for the various weapons he kept with him.  A surveillance camera system and a sniper gun, among other things.  If he put his mind to checking he had everything, perhaps that feeling, still warm and oh-so-pleasant, would stop.

            He heard her walk across to the bathroom, and the water turned on shortly after.  He sank onto the couch.  It was draining, being so close to something so pure as Robin.  For some reason the image of her in his shirt, and _barely_ anything else, was now burned into his memory, and with a new wave of that wonderful feeling, he realized what it was.

            A territorial one.

            Robin lay back in the tub, letting the warmth soothe her.  Her gaze fell upon the shirt, folded nicely on the edge of the sink.  It smelled of Amon and it was worn thin and gray, but she wouldn't trade it for anything.

            She sank lower under the water, her hand unconsciously reaching for the pendant from Father Juliano.  She'd only met one person who could possible wear the same one, other than herself and the Sisters of the Abbey.  In time, perhaps, she'd meet the young man that once filled her one precious summer in Ireland with such happiness.

            _"You don't belong to anyone?"  Her head to the side, a mess of blonde hair fell over her green eyes.  The older boy nodded quickly, wiping at something in his eye.  Her seven year old self grabbed his hand.  _

_            "It's okay.  I don't belong to anyone, either."_

_            For a moment she was afraid he'd push her away, like he had when she had first come.  Instead he toyed with the pendant around his neck.  "We can belong to each other."_

_            She smiled, and nodded._

            She had left later that day, as all irony of that sort went, and she'd never seen the boy to whom she belonged ever again.

            Perhaps, perhaps in Ireland he'd remember her, and she could tell him all that had happened since their separation.

            "Robin, please hurry.  We must leave."

            Their things stood at the door, and Robin and Amon made one last sweep of the room to make sure they hadn't left anything.  Amon, satisfied, picked up his duffel and opened the door.

            Robin entered from the other room, the sad, distant look that always clouded her face when they left another temporary home very visible.  Her gaze fell upon Amon and her eyes shot open.

            "Amon, you're Orbo!" she whispered, pointing at his chest. 

            "I got rid of it while we were still in Japan.  It was mixed with an isotope. Robin.  It was how they knew where everyone was."  Not as good as Michael was at hacking, he had still managed to find out that and quite a bit more about the Orbo while they were still at STN-J.

            "So they really think we're-"

            "To the best of our knowledge, yes.  We can talk later, but right now we have a flight."

            Robin nodded, and face set with determination, she walked out of hotel room.

            Dublin Airport was noisy and filled with various sorts of people, and right away Robin hated it.  It was too loud, and, with each jolt by a passing by person, Amon's grip tightened on her hand.

            If she didn't like it, he probably wanted her to burn the place down.

            Somehow they made it to a cab.  Slipping in, Robin made room for Amon, who took the seat next to her.  The driver started to say something in a language that she'd never heard.

            "Oh, I'm sorry but I don't speak-"

            Amon said something to the driver, who nodded, and pulled away from the curb.  Robin gaped at him.  "What?"

            "How did you know-"

            "Lived here," he said quickly, in the tone of voice that she hadn't heard since she had asked him if had family.  When he lied.  She wouldn't pry.  If it had taken this long to learn just that he had a half brother, it would probably be while before she learned what exactly his ties to Ireland where.

            They were let off at least two hours later, Robin had lost track of the time since she'd fallen asleep.  It was a smaller town, with a short main street, and looking farther down the road, there were fields and houses.  She smiled.  It was nothing like Italy, but it gave off the same comforting feeling.

            Amon led them into a pub that was off of the street they were on and Amon slipped through the group, leaving Robin for just a spare moment.  Panic set in as somebody, smelling of cigarettes, snaked an arm around her shoulders.

            "Why, if it isn't the Little Bird!  And you're not wearing your dress!  I take it you and Amon-"          

            "Nagira!" she cried, smiling.  "What are you doing here?"

            "Well, I _had_ to check on you guys.  I'm glad to see you can still smile.  I was afraid being around Amon would make you as serious as he is."

            Amon now had an envelope in his hand now.  "Nagira."

            "Are you making friends with Eddy again or are we going to leave?"

            "We're leaving."  He walked past the two and out the door.

            "You know, from what I've heard," Nagira said watching his brothers retreating from, "I thought it was my job as the older brother to be the grumpy one."

            It was a large, sprawling estate, set on the water's edge.  The two-story house looked worn and not tended.  There were weeds shooting up from between the stones in the pavement.

            "I haven't actually been able to get back here to clean up in quite a while," Amon said, glancing sideways at the young witch in the seat next to him. 

            "You own…this?"

            "Yeup, his mother's family's owned it for God knows how long." Nagira told her, lighting a cigarette.  Amon's hand reached backward and Nagira handed it to him.  Robin watched the scene with surprise.

            Was the man next to her actually her partner?

            The hallway was very bright, and the floor had a black and white checkered pattern.  Through a large archway was a wide set of stairs that led upward.  Amon checked the entire first floor with Robin in tow, glasses perched on her nose.  There didn't seem to be anyone in there for a few years.  The second floor had a few bedrooms, and Robin took one with large windows on the back of the house with a view of the sea.  Her room at the abbey had faced the sea.  She wiped off a shelf and put her bag on it.   

            She would definitely need some cleaning supplies.

            "Amon," she called, not quite sure where he was.

            "Yes?" His head poked through the small doorway that led to her bathroom.  She dusted of her pants and walked into the bathroom.

            The large old-fashioned tub looked usable, if it was scrubbed.  There was a showerhead in desperate need of scouring, and the mirror needed Windex.  "Is there any way we can go back into town and pick up some cleaning supplies?"

            He walked back into his room.  They were sharing a bathroom.  She'd have to clean it a little more than she would have.

            "Nag-I will take you," he called over his shoulder.

            "Thank you."

            After dark the town came to life.  The lamplights reflected on the slightly wet pavement, as well as the occasional lighter for a moment.  Robin followed Amon quickly.

            He obviously knew where he was going.  And after five minutes of walking, they entered a small general store. 

            "That's not Amon, is it?"

            His head snapped up from talking to Robin.  "Nan-Excuse me?"

            "It's me, Dan Werthers, Petey's son?"

            Recognition flashed through his eyes. "Dan…Yes.  Where's your father?"

            "Oh, you knew da.  If he wasn't yelling at you making the milk go sour, he was sleeping.  His hearts not too good, so I'm in charge of the place."

            Robin smiled.   So Amon had not just appeared on the surface of the Earth fully grown.

            "Amon, you've got to be shitting me, you're fucking married?"

            Amon had a wife?  Then she flushed furiously.  She hadn't taken off the ring because he had never told her to.  Amon struggled for a moment.

            "This is my wife," he paused, looking at the young woman next to him.  "Hope."

            Dan took her hand in a hearty handshake, and it was only Amon's firm grip around her shoulders that kept her from bowing.

            "I'll go get those things we need," she said quietly, and walked down one of the isles.  Amon watched her leave and suddenly realized she had just abandoned him without realizing it. 

            "Where have you been?  Clearly, getting laid, but otherwise, you know?"

            He'd ignore the one about his sexual relations with Robin.  _If only_, that small, nagging part of his brain. "Working.  Europe.  Listen, Dan, if someone asks you if you saw…my wife, say you didn't.  Could you do me that favor?"

            Dan leaned forward.  "I thought she looked young.  How old is she?"

            "Old enough," he said quickly.  "Just do me that favor."

            "Sure, Amon."

            Robin appeared from around the corner, a basket on her arm.  Amon took it from her and she busied herself with the ring on her finger.

            Dan handed Amon the sack after he rang everything up and Amon hastily left with Robin in tow.

            "I can't believe it."

            "Can't believe what?" he asked, still slightly shaken.  He had blocked out his childhood long ago, and simply returning had brought back bad memories.

            "You actually got in trouble as a kid.  It was simply unthinkable up until then."

            He shook his head.  "You of all people should know that I don't always obey orders."

            "True."

            They walked slowly.  Amon glanced over at her.  "So we're married."

            "So my name is Hope.  That was…nice.  Thank you."

            "This won't be too hard.  We've done it before."

            "Yes, but only to check into hotels.  This may be slightly more…difficult.  I'm sorry I forgot to take off the ring, Amon."

            "I did, too.  It would have been harder to explain to him who you were if you didn't have it on."

            The reached the car and Amon ducked down to check underneath.  Robin waited.

            He unlocked the car and started to cross to his side when he was Dan taking out the garbage.  He quickly leaned over and opened the car door for Robin.

A.N. I forgot to mention that all the Titles in this story are all Nina Simone songs, who has got to be the absolute best jazz singer of all time, other than Ella Fitzgerald.  I know, tres bizarre, but I just felt like it.  Enjoy y'all.


	3. Ch 3: Isn't It a Pity

This will probably be the last review this weekend, because I have finals the next to days (even though I have to only go in the second half of the half day-which is, for me 2 hours and 5 mins) I will be doing the super uber study-type thing, and too busy _even_ for dreams of Amon…Let's hope I don't fill in the dots to look like his head or something...Gah. 

----------------------------------------

Chapter 3: Isn't It a Pity 

isn't it a pity  
you don't know what i'm talking about yet  
but i will tell you soon  
it's a pity  
  
isn't it a pity  
isn't it a shame  
yes, how we break each other's hearts  
and cause each other pain  
  
how we take each other's love  
without thinking anymore  
forgetting to give back  
forgetting to remember  
just forgetting and no thank you  
isn't it a pity  
  
some things take so long  
but how do i explain  
why not too many people can see  
that we are all just the same  
we're all guilty  
  
because of all the tears  
our eyes just can't hope to see  
but i don't think it's applicable to me  
the beauty that surrounds them  
child, isn't it a pity  
  
how we break each other's hearts  
and cause each other pain  
how we take each other's love  
the most precious thing  
without thinking anymore  
  
forgetting to give back  
forgetting to keep open our door  
isn't it a pity  
isn't it a pity  
  
some things take so long  
but how do i explain  
isn't it a pity  
why not too many people  
can see we're all the same  
  
because we cry so much  
our eyes can't, can't hope to see  
that's not quite true  
the beauty that surrounds them  
maybe that's why we cry  
God, isn't it a pity  
  
Lord knows it's a pity  
mankind has been so programmed  
that they don't care about nothin'  
that has to do with care  
c-a-r-e  
  
how we take each other's love  
the most precious thing  
without thinking anymore  
forgetting to give back  
forgetting to keep open the door  
  
but i understand some things take so long  
but how do i explain  
why not too many people  
can see we're just the same  
  
and because of all their tears  
their eyes can't hope to see  
the beauty that surrounds them  
God, isn't it a pity  
the beauty that surrounds them  
it's a pity  
  
we take each other's love  
just take it for granted  
without thinking anymore  
we give each other pain  
and we shut every door  
  
we take each other's minds  
and we're capable of take each other's souls  
we do it every day  
just to reach some financial goal  
Lord, isn't it a pity, my God  
isn't it a pity, my God  
and so unnecessary  
  
just a little time, a little care  
a little note written in the air  
just the little thank you  
we just forget to give back  
cause we're moving too fast  
moving too fast  
forgetting to give back  
  
but some things take so long  
and i cannot explain  
the beauty that surrounds us  
and we don't see it  
we think things are just the same  
we've been programmed that way  
  
isn't it a pity  
if you want to feel sorry  
isn't it a pity  
isn't it a pity  
the beauty sets the beauty that surrounds us  
because of all our tears  
our eyes can't hope to see  
  
maybe one day at least i'll see me  
and just concentrate on givin', givin', givin', givin'  
and till that day  
mankind don't stand a chance  
don't know nothin' about romance  
everything is plastic  
isn't it a pity  
my God.

Nagira tapped the cigarette into the windowsill, watching as the ashes danced lightly on the breeze.  Prior to his arrival in Ireland, Nagira had been at a memorial service for Amon and Robin.  He'd found the whole situation rather funny but, of course, his ability to keep a morose expression left him wondering if the acting ability came from his father's side.

            "Close the window," came a brisk voice from the other side of the hallway.  Amon's glare met his from across the way.  "It's very cold out there."

            Nagira grinned, closing it with one hand, extinguishing his cigarette on the windowsill with other.  "I thought your heart was too cold to notice things like that."

            Amon's lips pressed themselves tighter.  "Robin's working to clean and you're not making matters easier.  I can see her breath in here."

            Nagira laughed. "If you had said that in the first place, I'd have done it without another word."  He crossed the room, leaning on the door.  "Get yourself a drink Amon.  You need one."

            Amon walked across the hallway, his dark shirt sticking out against the now spotless white hallway.  "Like I'd leave you alone with Robin.  I know you too well for that."

            Nagira suddenly became serious.  "I really do think that you're mistaking your feelings for mine, my little brother."  He pointed a finger at his brother's chest.  "I think that piece of an ice cube in there may be warming up, even if you hate to admit it.  Since childhood, I have never seen you care for someone."

            Amon stared at him for a minute, eyes filled with uncertainty, and then the fence was back up.  He walked back across the hallway.

            Nagira took another cigarette out.  He'd end up leaving minus a lung.

            Robin sat back up, stretching.  She was sitting in the tub, pouring on copious amounts of cleaner to a particularly bad spot of dirt. Amon was on the other side of the bathroom, cleaning out the tub, his sleeves rolled up on his shirt, which was, of course, black. 

            It seemed strange, the two of them calmly cleaning a bathroom as if neither had an international organization looking for them, wanting to kill them.  Robin as of recent, had felt like she had gone through the looking glass and still had not found the way back.

            "Could you please hand me the-"

            A hand reached back with the cleaner.  She took after a moment of surprise.  "Thank you."

            He made no reply.

            "So you grew up in this house."

            "Never here.  In a nearby town.  My mother was…not particularly close to her parents and I never visited this place until a few years ago."

            She leaned on the rim of the tub.  "I never would have guessed that you were Irish, Amon."

            "I don't feel I am."

            "The what are you?"  It wasn't supposed to be a serious, but Amon's entire frame seemed to tense up.  The little bit of his face that she could see in the reflection in the mirror was unreadable.  He turned.

            "I'm not quite sure anymore.  I used to be, but, recently…"

            Robin ducked her head.  "I-Gomen, Amon."

            "It's not your fault, Robin."  From his tone, she knew he was finished talking, and she meekly ducked her head, disappearing behind a porcelain barrier.

            Amon exhaled quietly.  It was the truth. It hadn't been her fault, far from it, actually.  He'd felt these changes…feelings he knew that perhaps, Karasuma might know about. 

            It had started simply enough.  Little murmurs among other things.  Déjà vu happening more times than it had ever happened before.  And then, he started hearing her thoughts.  Headaches plagued him, and he'd found no solace.  His greatest nightmare was coming true.

            He had awakened.       

            Nagira waved at them from the doorway, the papers that had long been forgotten in his hand, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.  "Are you two gonna read these or should I just start scrap-booking them now?"

            Amon stood up and stretched, then turned and helped Robin out of the tub.  It was fairly large, he noticed suddenly.  Large enough-

            A faint murmur in his head, sounding quite like Robin, started to think the same thing, and as her hand met his-

            The two of them, together-

            And _she_ was the religious one of the two. 

            She walked past him into the other room and took the papers.  Nagira grabbed her hand.  "And what is this, Little Bird?"

            She stammered, suddenly red.

            "STN-J wasn't going to be looking for a married couple in Ireland, don't you think?  Robin, let's have a look at those papers."  The look in her eyes was all the thanks he needed, and they sat down on a bench near the stairs.

            "It's Ancient Craft writings, I think," he said quietly, perusing the foreign letters.  "It make take a while, but I'll-"

            Robin turned towards him, pale and making a strange choking noise.  Curious, he pretended to accidentally brush her hand with his and a jolt of fear nearly made him nauseous. 

            "You can read this."  It was more of a statement than a question, and she nodded slowly.  "What does it say?"

            "It's…about the Witch's Eve."   Her eyes scanned the paper.  "'She will bring hope to the many.  She will rise against those who persecute'…" she trailed of, her lips still moving.  "It talks about my birth here …'She shall share much with the Son of God'.  That's probably my birthday."

            "You're birthday?"

            She looked over at Amon, and he could see she was alarmed by their closeness.  He looked down at the paper, trying to look like he was reading it. 

            "My birthday is December 25th."

            "Christmas!  What a wonderful day to be born.  Do you ever get gypped out of presents?" Nagira asked.  Robin blinked.

            "I've…the nuns were celebrating the birth of Christ.  That was more important.  Fat-Grandfather would wish me a happy birthday, though."  She went back to reading the paper.

            "We'll have to celebrate both, then, Little Bird.  It will be twice as much a celebration as usual.  We'll take you to the bar and-"

"'She shall die before her 16th birthday.'"  The fear in her voice was impossible to mistake.  Amon took the paper from her.

"What!?" The cigarette feel from Nagira's mouth

Robin looked down at her hands, now folded in her lap.  Amon took one, firmly.  "Predictions, in my past experience, are almost always incorrect.  And there are always ways around them."

She looked up to him, her eyes brimming with tears.  "Amon, it's in a week."

He stared at the ceiling.  It had been deadly silent since he'd rechecked the papers.  They followed all the same patterns of Old Craft language, and there was no sign of forgery.

A week.  He had a week.  He wouldn't leave her side, regardless of how much she'd protest, since he knew she would, and he'd stop this thing.  If she died-

A tight feeling in his chest took over, and for a moment he could barely breathe.  No matter how much he forced himself to care about others, or not to care about her, he'd never felt so fear with a single thought, other than the possible chance of his Awakening.  That, however, was now behind him.

He heard footsteps and he reached for the gun below his pillow, taking the safety off and pointing it at the doorway.  There was a moment of waiting and-

"I-I couldn't sleep and-" her golden hair covered her face.  He slipped to the edge of the bed, waiting.  Her eyes fell upon the gun now on the bed.  "You don't carry the Orbo at all, do you?"

"You don't have to try to change the subject.  What's the matter, Robin?"

She rushed forward.  "I don't want to die, Amon!"

He grabbed her, and for a second she was afraid he'd slap her.  He pulled her close to him.  "You aren't going to die, Robin.

"How do you _know_ that, Amon?  How can you be so sure of it?  It says on those papers-"

"Which are quite old, found in the castle that belonged to a member of a coven, a man who was rumored to be mentally unstable."  Facts helped in moments of panic, usually.  She looked up at him and confusion played across her pale features.  "I _know_ they are not correct." 

"How do you know?"

He froze, and she must have sensed his alarm for she pulled back.  He would have had to tell her sooner or later.  Amon swallowed the acidy feeling in the back of his throat.

"My mother was a witch.  I always knew it might happen, but…I seem to know what's going to happen before it happens.  Precognition."

"I knew," she said quietly.  "I mean, I knew you'd Awakened, but…" She looked thoughtful for a moment.  "And what have you seen.  An old lady with two buns on the sides of her head?"

"No." 

"Then what?"

He would not tell her everything.  "You wish me a Happy New Years."

She smiled.  "If you were Nagira I know you'd only be saying it to cheer me up, but I trust you more."

Amon gave her a small smile, probably his first.  "Go to sleep."

She nodded, and got off the bed, blushing.  She stopped at the door.  "Thank. you, Amon."  And she closed the door.

Amon rolled over, trying to get some sort of sleep.  He looked over at the scrap he'd written in Gaelic when it had first happened:

She's in my bed and she's naked. I am naked.  She leans over and kisses me, an arm around my waist.  'Happy New Years, Amon,' she says.  Robin lies back against the pillow. 'I take back what I said about smokers'.

            It only kept him up.  He'd  be buying some sort of sleeping pills the next day.

A.N. Gah.  Mocacino's at 11'o clock equal much evil.  Thank you to all those wonderful people who've reviewed so far:

 To Bravedragon, teenwitch0043 ( I've been semi-dabbling myself since the fourth-grade, oh, to be Catholic!), Dark Mistress Meli, and Lara 1786, thank you so much for the great reviews!

Meli-There will be kisses, but I just want this to flow like it was natural, so I don't want them jumping on each other the second they're in a bedroom.

Sugargirlhv-For your sake, stop reading; I don't want to spoil the beauty and dark delicateness of the series by blowing al the secrets.  You _must_ watch the rest of the eps or read reviews of the show before trudging on.  I say this for your benefit.  I read The Burning Time and Her Hell, among, others, and I waited paitently while I watched my DVD I JUST GOT ON FRIDAY OF THE ENTIRE SERIES DIRECT FROM JAPAN!  WOOT!  I HEART SUBTITLES!!!! And I must say that I was quite disappointed to mind that things I thought may have happened didn't.

Alors, does anyone know, if they have the same one I have, where the DVDs are labeled 'ep 1' 'ep 2' and 'ep3', with each epidsode as a chapter on each DVD, what those weird symbols are in the last two episodes in the opening screen?  They look like they are from the original channel that showed the episodes…it's bothering this OC person.  Gomen.  Well, g'night, y'all, must sleep!


	4. Ch 4: I Sing Just to Know That I'm Alive

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far!  I really appreciate your reviews; they helped me get through my studies with as few spaz attacks as possible.  And I_didn't _fill in the blanks in the shape of Amon (though I may have gotten more of my test correct, I looked at the scoring sheet when I was finished and my inner artist took over; I felt there was too much negative space so I filled some different ones in).

Povertysucks: Yes it does, and as a child of a Jewish man, I fear you…just kidding…I want supper!

Kaidence: I cannot say anything…and I have read…very very good!

Z.A.G.: It was a time warp, but I guess I didn't space enough for it to translate….

Aliora: (Blushes) thank you!  That means a lot, because I've been told that I take to long to get to the important stuff, so that's great!   Actually, I find that my want to write may have been caused by my 4th grade teacher, an ex-football cheerleader, who told my parents that there was no hope for me when it came to English and that I might need to start reading more.  So I asked her if I should start going over to the High School and actually reading good books, since I'd read everything in my school library.  She didn't like me much after that.  My English teacher hated me this year because I'd occasionally sleep through his class and I was one of the only two in my class exempt at the end of the year, and yet I write on a post-college level.  Hmph.

Indirockqueen:  Finally!  Someone who loves good music!  I'm really into basically any singer in the same area, and I'm always listening to Nina, or Ella (takes moment and pays respect to the Great Woman Whom Can Tune a Piano with Her Voice).

Flaming Wolf:  I'm Irish, too and oh, Lord, if only…my mother would be so happy to see me bring home one of 'our' kind…and I think the whole cigarette thing just…gah.  Scary thought though, I just realized, when I woke up this morning and my extremely curly hair was something kinda straight, I noticed Amon and I have the same hair cut.  Eek.  And the Lil' Bird thing just seems like Nagira, but I gotta say I have seen it done before.

xkuroxshinobix, Jewel of Tasuki, and Laureate: Thank you for the kind reviews!

To anyone reviewing: feel free to flame if you must, but first, let me address a few things:

To IhateAnimeButI: Here's my line of thinking as far as using the Japanese:  I'm a mutt.  I'm everything from Lenape to Lithuanian and everything in between other than Asian, Hispanic, and Italian (which doesn't explain why I look like a dead Italian constantly scarfing down burritos and hanging out at my Hindu best friend's house…mmm, samosas, yummy).  Everyone in my family speaks something along with English, and having dinner with us means that you've got to think fast and speak as soon as you get it.  My stepbrother was freaked out the first time he ever came to dinner at my grandparent's house, known at the Grand Hotel.  I'm fluent in English and French, know a little Japanese, Yiddish, Spanish, and Latin, enough to teach to others.  I'm learning Gaelic from a friend and I'm going to learn Russian this summer.  Sometimes, I accidentally end up using the wrong language to end a sentence, like this:  Gomen, je suis crevée et je me vais coucher, hai? Translation: Sorry, I am exhausted and I'm going to bed, okay? (BTW, Gomen means 'sorry', and hai basically means 'okay'.)

            They do **not** speak like Americans in the show; that's Cartoon Network dubbing it.  I've watched in Japanese, and sure, they use slang, but everyone does.  All languages have slang.  Robin grew in Italy, meaning she definitely speaks Italian and if she grew up in a church-atmosphere, she's probably got some Latin down.  I don't know if it shows up in the Cartoon Network eps, but at one point, Michael says something about her Japanese and how it's pretty good.  He's American, if I remember correctly, so that's partially why they get along so well; they're both strangers in a culture so very different from there own.  She goes with Miho to visit the dying wife of one of the witches and Miho has to remind her to bow.  So Japanese is slightly hard for her.  In most European countries, you know whatever language is native to your area and you also speak English from like, day one.   Therefore, Robin probably knows English.

            Amon is a Hunter.  He's been trained to fit in anywhere, and probably speaks many, many languages fluently.  He probably knows quite a few more. (Which brings up a few questions.  If Robin worked for Salomon, then why does she always feel like such a stranger?  Did Juliano not train her correctly?  And if she was really that good, then why was she transferred to STN-J?  Isn't that like a demotion?  I'll have to think about that…)

            Most Americans who aren't exposed to different cultures wouldn't understand that English isn't what everyone speaks, and that everyone doesn't have the same morals that we have.  Maybe that's why most Americans in other countries, like France, hate us, so much.  Americans don't understand Systèm D, and that's why even those who speak French fluently wouldn't fit in well.

            I don't mean it in any way other than informative, and if you have problems in the future with foreign languages, there are websites like systran.net that allow free translations of websites or phrases, and I know I sometimes use them if I can't understand.

And now, the chapter!

Chapter Four:I Sing Just to Know That I'm Alive

I sing just to know that I'm alive  
I play just to feel that I'll survive  
And if there's a second place  
Where ?????????? just the case  
I sing just to know that I'm alive  
  
Sugoose, Yeah Sugoose, Sugoose, Yeah Sugoose, Sugoose, Yeah Sugoose  
  
Well the mountains they won't move no they don't  
And the people they won't dance and they won't  
I sing, I sing, I sing, I sing,  
I sing just to know that I'm alive.

            Robin brushed her hair, scrunching her nose at the knots.  So many of them.  She hadn't been able to wear her hair back the way she usually did for a while, but she still held on to the ribbons.  Part of her felt that if she held onto them, something from before she learned of who she was, she might be able to return to what she used to be.  She might be able to once again look upon the faces of Michael, Miho, Sakaki, Karasuma, and the others, with 'comrade's trust'.

            Right now, however, it seemed that if wouldn't be happening; she wouldn't even get to see Christmas.  She'd give Amon his present before that, then, just in case.

            Amon had said at first to stay behind today, but now, he felt it better if she came with him on their trip to the old home where the manuscript came from.

            He really was worried.  To be doing this.  Even if all of Salomon was looking for him, he was following their orders.

            Weren't they his orders?

            His promise at the Factory had seemed so impromptu, but it could have been well rehearsed.  She had listened to Harry; she trusted him, but she did not know to what extent his loyalty.  She would do anything for him, but in the end, she was afraid, he might just turn her in.  He'd always stuck to the book, in more abstract ways, and it caused her to fear him in the past.

            Just like at her apartment.  She was afraid of him, then.  Afraid of what he could have done to her if it hadn't been for her sheer luck.  The barrier had been broken by a-

            She dropped the brush, sudden realization hitting her as her mind's eye traveled back to that date she tried to forget.  It was Amon who caused that bullet to hit her instead of Robin.  That's why he used that blank.

            He'd…saved her.

            Nagira threw in the last shirt.  Abruptly, he had to bring his little vacation to an end.  He'd a case that, supposedly, according to his staff, he simply had to take.  Usually, they were quite good at figuring out what was going to give him a better reputation on the bar and what would leave him taking to the bottle.  Robin sat on the window seat, now sans cigarette ashes, her head cocked to one side and her blonde hair falling over it.

            "How long will you be gone, Nagira?"

            He gave her a pained glance.  "I'm not quite sure how long this is going to take, but know now that I won't let you stay with this guy who needs a stickectomy from his ass for too long alone!"

            She smiled, a small pull on the edge of her lips.  He turned and crossed his arms, frowning.  "We're not in Japan anymore, Robin.  Smiling is okay."

            "But I-"

            "Teeth.  You don't show your teeth and they'll think you're not as amused."

            She nodded.

            "I just want you fitting in, for your sake.  We both know that Amon's wife would probably not have the **greatest** sense of humor, but still."

            She flushed, and Nagira smiled.  He'd known almost right away that this young woman had feelings for his brother.  Of course, then he'd just thought that it perhaps might pass; she was so young she certainly would loose feelings for him and move on to someone closer to her age.  Instead, he'd found that Robin, far more mature than her years, not only felt more than just a crush on his brother, but her feelings were returned.

            First glance would never tell anyone anything about her other than that she probably could snap like a twig and needed increasing amounts of sunscreen.

            She was strong, strong enough to bear his brother's over exceeding stoicism and his critique, and brave enough to speak out against him when he got out of line, which happened a lot.

            "I really don't know what I'm doing…" she admitted quietly, then she stared at him, glassy-eyed.  "Listen, if I don't get the chance to see you again…" she trailed off, and Nagira sighed at the young girl.

            "You need to trust my brother, because he may not have ever been involved with century-old death prophecies beforehand, but I can assure you, he knows what he's doing."

            Robin got up and crossed to the other window, broodingly.  It was at that moment Nagira decided once Christmas came, he'd be taking her away from his brother from a while; she was becoming much too much like Amon.

            "I do, Nagira, but I just feel like I've got no control over anything right now and that…well, it scares me."

            Nagira threw another set of socks in his bag.  "You should share those feelings with my brother, Lil' Bird.  I'm sure he can assure you everything will be fine.  He's probably going to be carrying enough heat around it'll make your Craft look like child's play."

            She smiled, white teeth showing slightly.  It suited her more.  "Thank you, Nagira. I'll leave you to your packing, now."

            As soon as the door closed, he collapsed onto his bed.  He'd just given fatherly advice.  Lord.  He reached for another pack.

            "Amon, what are you doing up at your family's place?"

            Amon looked up from the shotgun he'd been looking to purchase.  Robin stood close by, perusing some brightly colored tackle.  Dan was standing in front of him, a pierced eyebrow raised.

            "Uh,"

            Robin's hand slid over his, gracefully.  "Amon loves hunting," she said, a small smile.  "I wanted to learn.  He wanted to get a new one so I could."

            Dan smiled.  "That's sweet.  I should teach my wife how to fish.  City slicker, she is, has no idea what she's doing in here, and she walks in here and sees me and I just nearly fell over and well, I don't know why she stayed, but she did.  I was voted most likely to end up a spinster.  Amon wouldn't know about that…his family sent him packing to be a priest," he gave Amon a wink.  "Clearly that didn't work, eh?  Well, they sent him away when we were still pretty young right after his mom d-"

            "So what city is you're wife from?"  It was rude, and he knew it, but he didn't want to bring that up with Robin standing so close.  Dan looked disoriented, but he answered anyway.

            "Belfast.  You want me to ring that up for you?"

            "Thanks."  He took Robin by the hand after paying and quickly left.

"Thank you," he said when they got into the car.  Robin looked up surprised.  They hadn't talked much since they said goodbye to Nagira.  "For thinking quickly."

            "You do it enough for the two of us.  We're supposed to turn left here."  

            He knew it, but the reminder helped him.  They were now on the ramp for the parkway.  He pulled over a few hundred feet before the real entrance. "Put this on," he said, handing her a hat he'd picked up for her at the shop.  She stared at it.  "If we drive past any cameras-"

            "And Michael could be scanning."  She put it on; the tight fitting cap hugged her head, causing her ears to be a little more prominent than they usually were.  Amon started to tie his hair back with a rubber band he found, but it snapped.  He stared at it for a moment, a heavy exhale the only sound in the car, other than the clicking of the blinkers.

            Her hand went automatically to her pocket.  "Here."  She leaned over.  Robin gathered his hair and took one of the dark purple ribbons and wrapped it tightly around the hair.  She let her mind wander for a moment to the thought that his hair felt wonderful and that she'd love to put her hands through it, and then it was back to tucking in the ends.  She sat back.

            His hand felt the back tentatively, and she smiled, happily.  "It should stay, I think."

            "Thank you."

            She turned back to the road.  "We're not going to make it to Meath if you keep paying me compliments."

            He started back onto the road.

            Robin was shivering next to him as they trudged up slight slope, and if it weren't for the shotgun in one hand underneath the trench coat, and the other free for the Glock he kept at his waist.

            It was after dark, and very much after five, when the park closed.  However, since the Witch they'd gotten the papers from worked at Loughcrew Cairns, they now had a way into the tombs.

            "Mr. McCannus, does anyone have an idea of what exactly these tombs are used for?"  She was upset, steeling herself for what was to come.  Fuck the rifle.  He switched to her other side, took a quick look to see if there were any cars other than theirs and the man now in front of them, and tried to place as comforting a grip as possible on her arm.  She gave him a smile as suddenly he felt _her_ stomach flip-flop.

            "Of course."  He was an older man, who knew a lot and now launched into what sounded like History professor's lecture.  "These were passage tombs.  We believe they were built around 4000 B.C for burial purposes."

            Suddenly the cries that he'd only imagined so far filled his head, and he turned to see a stricken look in Robin's eyes.  He reached down and gave her hand a light squeeze, walking her along so she'd stay with the two older men.

            "Thank you, for doing this for us," she said quietly.  The man turned and gave her a slight nod.

            "It is my honor, to help the Witches Eve.  If only my Uncle could meet you," his eyes widened.  "He'd well, after kissing your feet, he'd probably propose!"

            Robin blushed.

            "Ah, here," Mr. McCannus unlocked a door to a small office and he ushered them in.  Amon made a sweep, raising the shot gun ever so slightly, but then he realized that the only threat that awaited them in the closet of an office was a towering pile of papers falling on them.  Mc. McCannus sat down behind the desk that took up nearly the entire width and pulled out a safe box from the bottom drawer.  Amon and Robin leaned precariously against a bookshelf.

            Taking a key off of a chain around his neck, he unlocked the drawer and took out another key.  "Here we are.  Let's go."

            The older Witch exited, and Amon turned to Robin.

            "Ready?"

            She took a breath, and then nodded.

            The air in the chamber was old, and they could tell right away he hadn't lied when he said no one was allowed in this one.  Robin took a breath and leaned against a light stand for a moment, the bright light casting shadows on her face.

            It was starting, already.  Distant murmurs from those already dead filled her ears.  It wasn't as painful as when they had visited Stonehenge, but these were by far, very powerful witches who wanted their selves to be heard.

            "This was where he translated it from.  Can you believe it?  Told everyone it was his prophecy.  Bloody git.  If he really was prophetic, he'd know that his descendant would find this."  He pointed to the wall.

            Robin took a step forward and read, and she was aware Amon was watching her lips move quickly, eyes wide as she drank in the symbols in front of her.  They had learned at Stonehenge that possessing the Arcanum of the Craft had given her this amazing ability.  She shoulders fell and she turned to Amon, her stomach falling with the loss of hope.

            "It's true."

            "Are you sure?" he looked anxious.  Why was he worried?  "Read more."

            She strained.  It was starting to hurt; her own inner voice whispering to her the words and the voices of the dead were competing for her attention.  She managed to finish the line before squinting her eyes shut, rubbing them with the back of her hand.  "It talks about a woman in a lake…and a hill.  It's a story."

            Amon stood up as much as possible, which wasn't much because the ceiling was so low.  Things were starting to sway in and out of focus, the pain of a headache setting in.  She vaguely heard Amon thank the man and he guided her out.  Her vision swam as the cool air suddenly stung her cheeks and she found herself tripping down a slope…

            Her legs gave out under her, and it took only a second for Amon to kneeling next to her.  Cool air filled her lungs.

            "Come on, we're almost to the car," he said quietly.  "We can't just sit out here like this."

            Robin opened her eyes, and Amon's profile met her sight, his jaw clenched.  "I can't get up, Amon."  She couldn't.  Robin felt empty and drained.  "I heard them again.  They weren't as angry, they just…they're jealous of us.  Of me."

            "Why?" it was amazing how someone whose voice could cause such pain could be so soft to her.

            "Because I'm alive.  And they aren't."

            "And we're keeping it that way."

            Robin tried, she really did, but suddenly that little bit of her that had been restrained, had silently protested to everything they did and the awkwardness between the two of them burst.  "I can't take it anymore!  I'm so sick of this."  She rested her forehead on her chin, inhaling the scent of the grass.  "I don't want to be special anymore.  Amon you just have no idea what they sound like.  In your head."

            "I do."

            Robin's head came up, and she turned slowly to face him.

            "When I touched your arm while we were in there, I heard them.  It only started recently, and I'm still trying to figure it out."  They sat for a few minutes while she finally started to breathe normally.  Here she was, complaining about something she knew how to control to a certain degree, and Amon…

            Had become exactly what he hated.

            She wiped her eyes.  "Listen to me.  Such a child."  She stood up and brushed the grass of her pants, and gave a hand to Amon.  He grasped it, but didn't get up right away.  His eyes bore into hers. 

            "You don't feel any differently about…"

            She shook her head, and then smiled.  "I could never think of you as a witch."


	5. Ch 5: To Love Somebody

Title: Children, Go Where I Send You

Rating: PG-13, for this chapter

Pairing:AxR

Disclaimer: I don't own Witch Hunter Robin, but I do own this fanfiction's plot as well as a few of the characters, like Dan. Flames keep this little semi-anemic girl toasty.

Chapter 5: To Love Somebody

There' a light  
A certain kind of light  
It's never shown on me  
I want my whole life to be  
Lived with you  
Lived with you  
  
There's a way  
Everybody says  
Do each and every thing  
What good does it bring  
If I ain't got you If I ain't got you  
If I ain't got you If I ain't got you  
  
You don't know  
What it's like  
Baby you don't  
What it's like  
To love somebody  
To love somebody  
The way I love you  
  
In my brain  
See your face again  
I know my frame of mind  
You ain't got to be so blind  
And I'm blind so blind  
  
But I'm a woman  
Can't you see what I am  
I live and breathe for you  
What good does it do  
If I ain't got you If I ain't got you  
If I ain't got you If I ain't got you  
  
Say you don't know  
What it's like  
Baby you don't know what it's like  
To love somebody  
To love somebody  
The way I love you  
  
Oh no, no, no, no, you don't know  
What it's like  
Baby you don't know  
To love somebody  
To love somebody  
The way I love you

Amon stood with the frying pan in one hand, a cigarette in the other when Robin woke up the following morning. They had gotten home extremely late and both had crashed into their respective beds without much thought. Robin was usually the first up, followed very closely by Amon, who's keen Hunter hearing picked up the sound of the running water.

"Morning," she mumbled, putting the teakettle on. The house didn't have a coffee maker, so she simply decided to drink tea so she wouldn't bother Amon.

He was slightly perturbed by some stubborn eggs, it seemed, taking the occasional furious puff on the cigarette. Robin stretched and came over, quietly.

"Do you need help with those eggs?"

"No."

"Hai," she didn't need to have precognition to know she'd end up fixing the eggs. Robin went over to the fridge and took out the orange juice, and snuck a peek at the frying pan. "Amon!"

His head snapped up, the expression that always came over him when he was Hunting exceedingly visible. "Where?"

She bit her lip. "No…you're ruining the eggs." She slipped in on his left side, since Amon had just started to reach back for his gun. Somehow, between the stovetop and Amon, there was room. She poked and flipped, until she was happy that she had rescued them enough for her to be able to leave them for a minute without having to look at them.

"Pretty good."

She nearly jumped. He hadn't moved, and it was only now that she felt his breath on the back of her neck. She could smell the cigarette smoke.

"You shouldn't be smoking. It's bad for you, Amon."

"The occasional one can't hurt." He was in a downright cheerful mood, she realized. Was it the absence of his older bother?

"I could never kiss a man who smokes," it came out without her thinking. She heard a chuckle, and he appeared at her side, leaning on the counter.

"Really?"

She licked her lips, the closeness unsettling. "Really."

He opened his mouth to say something, but the teakettle started whistling, and Robin quickly went to make her tea.

Amon felt like a prick. Not only was he dreaming about her, but…

She was so close right then. He could smell her shampoo and the leftover smell of the road from the night before. He'd wanted her.

He brought the cigarette to his lips, but then he looked over at the young woman busily making her tea, and then took an extra glass that was sitting on the table and smashed it out.

'I take back what I said about smokers'. She'd said it so lazily in his dream…so at ease. Could it really be the person who just turned as red as the mug she was now placing her tea in?

Yes.

Robin took the eggs out of the pan and put one on each of their plates. He made a small sound of acknowledgement to signify thanks. Robin started to delicately poke at her eggs, drawing herself up in the chair.

She was going to say something.

"Yes?" She was biting her lip as he asked.

"Do you think, since…since we've reached a bit of a dead end everything…"

"I'm working on it," he said shortly.

She looked down. "They're having a festival down in town. For Christmas."

He nodded. "Do you want to go?"

She blushed, and he guessed all those years of being taught to be faithful had left her with an embarrassment when it came to requesting frivolous things. "Well, if it's alright," she mumbled.

He didn't look up, trying to mask his smile by letting his hair fall into his face. "I guess it would be fine." Quite frankly, it was one of his favorite things about this town. For the short time he lived here before he was recruited to train, he'd lived with an aunt in town who'd taken pity on her poor, motherless nephew. He had planned on asking her shortly, anyway, if she wished to go.

He could tell she was sick of being in the house, and she had memorized her way through the house with her eyes closed.

"Domo arigato gozaimasu, Amon!" She smiled, trying to make her teeth show as she turned to put her dish in the sink. He followed.

"Nagira said to show teeth?"

She nodded. " He said I'd fit in-"

"He never fit in here in the first place because he isn't from here, Robin. Don't try to change yourself because some idiot asks you to."

Robin looked upset. "How did you know he said to cutting my hair?"

He looked over at her. She was cutting her hair? "I didn't. But don't."

She took a handful and studied it. "Why? It just gets in the way."

Amon couldn't help himself. He reached out a hand and ran his finger over a few strands of the dark golden silk. He was so close he could hear her short intake of breath as he simply stared at it in his hand. He looked at her, in a way he hoped was devoid of emotion.

"Just don't." Amon let go of the captive tendril and turned.

His gut clenched, and he could feel his heart beating faster. Amon walked out of the room as quickly as he could.

What had just happened?

Robin stared at her hands, shaking for reasons she didn't want to think about. Oh, but those eyes…

Robin knew what love was. It was the ever-present, no-conditions support and strength she gained from God. When others told her they were in love, she was amazed how they could confuse someone who made love well with someone who'd forgive them for wrecking the car or for having affair.

He had looked at her in a way that she'd only seen a few times before, when Sakaki had stared at Karasuma. Karasuma had, just before the ambush, told her that she and Sakaki where dating. She remembered one of them fairly well:

Sakaki had been sitting next to hear as they worked on typing up their latest reports, and he looked up at Karasuma, who was across the office, out of distance enough for his quiet conversation with Robin not to be heard.

"How are things between you two?" she asked, whispering.

"Just great."

"Good."

She went back to typing, as did he. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his head snap up as Karasuma walk by, a small, coy smile flashing across her lips as she passed. He exhaled, his eyelids lowering slightly as his eyes clouded with something she never had seen. "God," he breathed, "I want her." His eyes widened as he realized he said it out loud. "Oh, um, I'm sorry!"

Robin slowly went back to work.

Right now, however, it was not as possible to go back to work. Not only because there really wasn't work to go to, but also because she hadn't been watching this time. She had been the one stared at. The one…

Wanted. The word made her stomach churn and feel warm.

She wasn't quite sure if it was a passing attraction, or the sort that would always be there, filling in the silence, causing that electricity when they touched…

What was she prattling about? All she knew of was what she had read about and what she'd seen. Robin was a naïve young woman who barely knew hw to take care of herself, let alone how to respond to the feelings of a man.

Well, she did know about-

She furiously scrubbed at the pan, the eggs mostly gone but still in need of her attention.

That was a bridge to be crossed when they came upon it.

But part of her hoped they would come across it.

The thin sheets of paper lay on the desk in front of him, taunting him as he sat on the edge of his bed. He'd just finished wrapping her present.

He'd felt strange buying it, since he'd never actually bought a present for anyone as an adult. The last person he had ever purchased a gift for was his mother when he was little. Swallowing the small stone in his throat, he got up and looked at the papers.

So thin, so delicate and yet they had the profound effect of stating when one was to die.

He hated them.

A few words and suddenly the young witch's life was gone.

He heard Robin's light tread on the stairs, and he grabbed a blanket and through it across the box on his bed, sticking it in the dark corner of the room.

"Amon?"

"I'm in my room. Yes?"

"I was wondering when we'd be-"

"We'll leave around six. It's not even eleven right now."

She nodded, and then glanced at her doorway. "I suppose I have some cleaning to do. I've barely touched the parlor or the hallway."

"Can't let them stay dirty."

"No, I can't," she said seriously. He had meant it sarcastically, but she had already turned and started to take cleaning supplies from the bathroom.

"It's five days until Christmas, Robin," he said, exasperated. For an extremely clever witch, she had barely a sense of humor. "Take a break. The only person who might be here is Nagira or a Hunter."

Robin straightened up. "That's not funny, Amon."

Amon shrugged and went back to his room.

Robin tugged the scarf around her neck tighter, hurrying to keep up with Amon. She'd given up walking abreast with him a while ago, since the thick snow had frozen. Up until today she hadn't had much trouble with the dusting, but tonight, with the town's members all anticipating Christmas, God had chosen to grace them with a holiday card-perfect covering.

From even here, she could see the pristine white on the large tree in the center of town, small lights glowing in various spots from below, causing the snow to glow with color.

"It's pretty," she said quietly, her breath coming out in a thicker cloud; it then mingled with the one from Amon's breath when he made a small sound of agreement.

They crossed the small bridge and suddenly they were submersed in light and snow. The smell of spices reminded her of the kitchens at the abbey.

"It's not Harry's," he said as they entered the pub, and soon Robin was sitting, drinking coffee.

"Amon!" he turned around and Robin's attention was focused on a furiously waving hand.

It was Dan, making his way while dragging someone behind him. Amon turned back around and groaned, which caused Robin to let out a giggle. He'd never been as open before with her, and she hoped it wasn't because of the growing collection of empty glasses on the table.

A twenty-something year old woman gave them a smile as Dan ushered her over to the table. The couple sat down.

"So, what do you think about our little celebration, Hope?" Dan asked, grinning.

"It's lovely, from what I've seen of it so far."

It was bland talk that lasted for a while, and Amon seemed to be too loud for himself. Robin excused them, paid, and started them outside. He mumbled a thank you.

He was already mentally cursing himself for getting drunk. Amon knew it could lead to problems. He tried to push the haze as far out of his way as possible as they walked, or stumbled, in his case, towards the outskirts of town.

They'd barely made a dent in the path home when he felt it, the rushing in his veins and the feeling of loosing control. He didn't like it.

He struggled, and it took so much energy that he had to stop walking. It swallowed him and suddenly the darkness took him over.

_They stood so close; the darkness of the small apartment surprised him. A look up at the slanting roof told him they were in his brother's office._

_ 'We'll stay here for tonight,' he heard himself say, and Robin looked at him wearily as she wound her arms around his waist. It felt natural. He rested his head on hers._

_ 'Can you believe it's only been-'_

_ 'A month, I know' he murmured into her hair. 'Jul-'_

_ The door opened, and Robin gasped._

_ Amon whipped around, and stared at Michael._

"Amon," he looked down at her concerned eyes, so green and wide, like hers in his vision. "What did you see?"

"Us…Nagira's apartment. Michael walked in."

"So we're going to be found," she said quietly.

He slid down the wall, and Robin followed him. He rested his head back and let the snow hit his face, searching for clarity from the drink and the vision. "I don't know yet, Robin. Just, sit with me, please."

If she stayed near by, then he knew there was a lesser chance of something happening to her. She was compliant.

She snuggled close; the frigid December air was biting in this alleyway, which seemed to be some sort of accidental wind tunnel.

They'd never really been this close to one another, save for when he helped her escape from Raven's Flat. Then, as now, he noticed the little freckles that dusted her cheeks, the length of her lashes and the deepness of her eyes. So green. His eyes trailed lower. Those lips…

They were suddenly on his, and for a moment he let himself feel just how soft they were, but then the very sensible part of him took over and he jerked away.

"T-tbrón orm, Robin," he said as he got up, shakily. Robin tried to give him a hand, but he brushed her off.

Robin heard Amon say something when they got into the house, but she tore up the stairs faster than she'd ever gone before. Door shut, locked, and given a throrough kick, Robin fell onto her bed, and let the tears that had been forced back the entire walk home out.

She knew he could hear on the other side, but there wasn't anything she could, or wanted to do about it.

A.N. Ah, vacations! Sorry I was gone for a week, but I was spending a marvelous and much needed vacation in South Jersey. For once, I got to be a bennie and piss people off. I'd never have guessed it would be therapy for years of repressed anger at idiots who tie up traffic in my town. Hee.

I don't look dead anymore, which is-a start in the right direction. I keep doing double takes everytime I see me in the mirror. Me? With a color other than off white? Strange, I tell you. Sunburn sucks though. Gah.

I've forgotten to mention that the house Amon and Robin are staying in is an actual house. I found it while seaching on the internet. I'm probably going to create a 3d model of what _my_ version of the house looks like, since I had to modify it slighly. No tennis court in mine, and rooms are….different. It may take a while. I'll need to brush up with my CAD skills. The little that I have.

I promise much MUCH more fluff coming up soon. Right now, however, I have a date with a certain Jareth, King of the Goblins. Hee.

Clyde007: You're sweet, thank you. I promise, I won't keep you waiting.

Tsukinoko1: Gah. You found it. That stupid mistake I had THOUGHT I fixed, but apperently didn't. It's one of her other powers, the one they just couldn't figure out how to stick in the story. And the tombs? They are an actual place in Ireland. It took a while to find where they actually were, so there were blanks in my writing for a while. Writing has been found in them, and well, I kinda embelished. They were there to validate the wrting that was transcribed from those inscriptions. I just checked, and the chappy's all there.

Misa-sama: Yes, I do. I didn't particularly like the song itsself, but the title is what I needed.

Angel452: (smoke appears) All will be answered in the future…

lily: Thank you very much for appreciating my little rant…I just needed to get that out there.

indirockqueen: You know, I really would like to know the name of the prophet, too…I miss him, too…wah.

Meyu: Thank you! I will!

Isis: Sorry this wasn't so soon!


	6. Ch 6: Don't Explain

Rating: PG-13, still…

Summary: Hee. Meatwad just got a clown tattoo…oh, uh sorry.  Um.  Fluff fest.  Back to watching Mooninites.

A.N.  Yeah, time warp.  I realized I had forgotten a few days in between, and I really didn't have anything to add of importance, so I just kept it the way it was.  Lord, I'm tired.

Yuna of Paradise:  I just kinda thought Amon would smoke. I thought he'd be a little more sexy than he already is he.  I just finished checking the story... I couldn't find a character named Peace that snuck in there somehow.  No, Dan was Amon's neighbor when he was a child.  Robin's alias is 'Hope'.

punkchick16:  Thank you for understanding…I'm sorry your vacation wasn't fun…read this chap and may it give you fuzzies.

Beautiful Witch Hunter Robin:  This good?  Hee.

Indirockqueen:  (looks around nervously) Umm, what mistake?!?!?  Just kidding.  I fixed it.  Thank you..  I love Amon when he's broodish.  Then again, actors like Hugh Jackman and Johny Depp, when broodish, make me go HEEEEEEE.

The Cowboy Beboper:  Cool show btw, thank you.  I like secrets.  Secrets are cool.  I have a lot.  Like auditioning for a role on Sesame Street when I was really little and still modeling.  Shit, I said that outloud.

Chapter 6: Don't Explain

Hush now, don't explain  
Just say you'll remain  
Unless you're mad, don't explain  
  
My love, don't explain  
What is there to gain  
Skip that lipstick  
Don't explain  
  
You know that I love you  
And what loving does  
All my thoughts are real  
For I'm so completely yours  
  
Try to hear folks chatter  
And I know you cheat  
Right or wrong, don't matter  
When you're with me, sweet  
  
Hush now, don't explain  
You're my love and pain  
My life's your love  
Don't explain

            Nagira opened the box and inhaled.

            Cigars were reserved, by Nagira's general rule, for celebrations after a case won well.  They were five times better than cigarettes and at least twenty times more expensive if actually good ones.

            This was not one of those celebrations.  This was panic and lack of cigarettes.

            The phone had rung, and, looking up from his notes from in court and seeing no one there, he picked it up.

            "This is the office of Nagira Syunji."

            "Hello, could I please speak to Nagira?  This is important," the person had said nervously, in slightly accented Japanese.

            "This is he.  How can I help you?"

            "I…I'm a friend of Amon's."

            Nagira sat up straight.  "I never kept close with him."

            "I used to work with him…and I know he's alive."

            "Like I said, I-"

            The door opened and in came a young, redheaded man with a cell phone to his ear, upon seeing Nagira, he shut it and Nagira heard the call end on his phone. 

            "I'm Michael Lee."

            Nagira nodded.  "I remember Robin telling me about you…God, I miss that girl."  He was lawyer, so he hoped his look of sadness passed, since he lied more times than he could count in a day.  Michael only blushed and fumbled with the zipper on his laptop case.  "I thought that you couldn't leave the building."

            Michael seemed to be distracted for a moment.  "After everything with the factory, well…I'm allowed out.  You can keep saying she's not alive, but I know for a fact that she's alive."

            "How's that?"

            "I did research.  Found out Amon owned a place in Ireland.  I called a few places there.  They'd never heard of a Robin Sena, but they did know of an Amon and he had a young wife with him…I know it's a front.

            "I haven't told anyone at STNJ about it.  I'm not planning on it.  But-but just let them know I'm trying my best to cover up for them.  They're on the list as missing, and in a few weeks, Robin will be placed on the dead witch list."

            Nagira said nothing, and Michael understood.  He started out the door, but stopped and turned.   "Just tell Robin I said 'hello', next time you talk to them."

            The door shut and Nagira was left to exhale and slump forward in his seat, banging his head on the desk's surface out of frustration.

            So he now was furiously puffing away at a cigar, his hand reaching for his cell phone.  Amon had a beeper.  It was the only way to get a hold of him.  It was listed as 'John Faber'.  He dialed the number as quickly as possible.

            Amon's eyes shot open as something nearby moved.  It was the pager.

            With a quick hand, surprising even himself for having just woken up, he picked it up before having it fall off the surface of the bedside table.  The screen on the side glowed and the digital screen showed a series of 4s on the screen-five, to be exact.  That was Nagira's sign to call him.

            He slipped downstairs and picked up the cell phone he had purchased earlier this week.  It was disposable, and, registered under a false name, it was perfectly safe to use for calls.

            "Hello?" came his brother's voice.

            "This is John Faber."

            There was a crackle as Nagira sighed.  "Thank God.  Michael came by.  Michael Lee."

            "Well, if the police knew you were my brother, STN-J was sure to know."

            "No, Amon, they already visited here."  Amon's stomach tightened, waiting for his brother to continue.  Instead, he had to continue the conversation.

            "So they finally rewarded him for his work.  Good.  What did he ask?"

            "That I tell you two that he's not going to tell them that he called some stores in your town and found out you were there with Robin…he's going to try to keep STN-J off you trail as much as possible.  Amon, I think you two should leave in a few days or something.  If she li-"

            Amon gritted his teeth.  "_She_ and I will leave in a few days.  We'll figure something out.  I have to go…by the way, Merry Christmas Eve."

            "Didn't even realize it," his brother laughed, a bark-like sound.

            "It's time to lay off the smokes, brother."

            "Not until you pull the stick out of your ass.  Have a fun few days…" The line went dead.

            He'd have to be careful until they left.  Whom they made contact with now seemed to be a suicidal choice, regardless of whom.  They'd have to stay out of town for the next few days.  He'd go to the city, if things were required.

            He should probably wake her up, to tell her what had happened.  She deserved at least that much, especially today.

            Without his consent, his thoughts drifted back to the other night.  She had been anxious since.

            Her lips were so soft.

            He stopped, midway up the steps.  This line of thinking…was inappropriate.  She was young, inexperienced in the ways of the world, and deserved much, much more than him.

            But his vision…

            It could have been a dream, he now told himself, as he continued upward, in desperate need of a shower, as if it would help to rid his self of the thoughts that now seemed to plague every moment he was awake.  Three days of awkwardness had been grating on his nerves.

            Her door was closed, and he took this as a sign that she didn't wish to be disturbed.  He showered and shaved quickly.

            Tomorrow was Christmas, he told himself bleakly as he slipped a t-shirt on and then his holster.  His hand sought out a sweater to put on over everything, and when it came out of the drawer with the one that Robin had just recently borrowed after a particularly blustery and wet walk home, he decided he might as well wake her up and wish her Christmas Eve at least, if not tell her of Nagira's encounter.

            "Robin, can I come in?"

            There was no answer.

            He turned the doorknob slowly, making sure he didn't hear a gasp of surprise before fully opening it.  He started to wish her good morning.

            She wasn't in her room.

            "Fuck."

             First of all, she simply couldn't face him this morning.  Second, she had less than a day to purchase his Christmas present, and she'd known exactly what she had wanted, and known the town would not have it.

            They would have to be the justification for climbing out the window on Christmas Eve.

            Now, with the small present now in her pocket, she trudged along the sidewalk, hair in a ponytail, sunglasses on, she let herself enjoy the instrumental versions of Christmas music.

            Her even being in town was a large risk.  Not only because there could be hunters anywhere, since the abbey in which they trained was near by, but also because she would have to face the wrath of Amon when she got home.

            Hell hath no fury like Amon ignored.

            He'd probably be a little nicer than usual, what with how her birthday was the next day and the prophecy…

            Automatically, she felt the thought be squashed out.  She had trained herself to do so every time she thought of the parchment that lay on her paper, she would think of something else.

            A few children ran past, their parents close behind.  She let herself smile.

            The computer store across the way caught her eye, a large, yellow banner declaring a sale on laptops seeming to almost yell at her.  She certainly had enough money, and Amon being such a technophile…

            She crossed the street.

            Amon had checked the surrounding area, the entire property, and the roads near by.  No sign of her.

            He had said every curse that he could think of in every language he knew, and had started the process for a second time as he had stepped out of the car.  He quickly walked into Dan's store.

            The woman from the other night stood at the counter, typing something on the computer behind it.  She looked up.

            "Hello, how can I help you?"

            "Have you seen a young woman about 5" 2', blonde haired?  Her name's Hope."

            She shook her head.  "I know who she is.  She's probably out buying a present for you or something.  Relax."

            It had the exact opposite effect on him.  E felt his eye twitch and hoped it wasn't too obvious.  "Thank you for your time."

            He exited and got back into his car.  He was settling into his attitude before battle.

            Robin walked into the train station, now laden with the laptop package.  Changing in the room, she took a moment to survey the disguise.

            It was a black wig, short, and a thick blue sweater.  She'd always loved dressing up.

            Hoisting the package, she made her way to the platform, and onward to home.

            Half an hour later, she slipped through the window and into bed.  The trip had been exhausting, since she'd been alone, and left to fend herself.  Sleep took over too soon.

            Amon took off the sweater, now in his room.  He put on a different holster, and placed as many firearms as possible in the holders.  He knew the abbey was near.  That was where they held her.

            He would not let her die.  As long as there was the possibility she was alive, he'd keep fighting.  If not…           

            He could not think of 'if not'.        

            There was a thud in the other room.

            With every sense tingling, he crept into the hallway.  The door was open.  Slowly, inching his way along the wall, he made his way to the threshold.

            A dark haired woman lay on Robin's bed, Curled to onside.  He moved closer.

            Why would they send a Hunter to sleep on her bed?

            Gun ahead, safety long since off, he made his way past a box on the floor and looked down at the woman in the bed.

            It was Robin, with a dark wig halfway off.

            He couldn't help it.  His legs gave out and he sat on the bed, and did something he hadn't done since he was very young.

            He started to cry.

            Robin opened her eyes sleepily.  The bed had moved.  It now sagged a little more than usual to the right side.

            The dark form she knew as Amon sat hunched over on, his gun now slipped from his hand and his shoulders jerked up and down.

            He was crying.

            Robin sat up and looked around, then back in amazement at Amon.  She touched his hand.

            His head jerked up, and his eyes wildly searched hers, and then he grabbed her.

            In an instant, she was in a tight embrace, his sobs racking her own body.

            He must have realized she was gone.  He had thought something had happened.  It was her fault he was now…

            "I-I didn't mean-"

            "Don't do that to me," he said, his voice cracking.  His arms tightened.  "Don't ever do that again.  Don't ever…I thought…Promise me."

            A tear slipped down her own cheek.  "I promise."

            She slipped a tentative hand upward, and brushed a tear from his cheek.  She had only been this brave once or this close, a few days before.

            Amon took her hand, and loosened his grip on her waist slightly.

            "The other day-in town," Robin looked down for a moment.  "You didn't-"

            Her eyes met his, and she knew he heard her thoughts.  He searched her face for any signs of not wanting what came next before bringing his lips to hers. 

            Amon, she had known, had been cursing himself for kissing her the other day.  He had blamed it on his drunkenness.  What he didn't know, however, was that he hadn't kissed her.

            She kissed him.

            Her audacity had surprised even herself. 

            Now, in his arms, their lips just delicately meeting, she knew she'd somehow been rewarded.

            Their kiss deepened.  Her arms found their way around his neck instinctively, pulling him closer to herself.  Finally, they parted. 

            Amon's hand cupped her cheek, brushing her lips, and it moved down to her neck.  She could feel a brush creep across her cheeks.  His hand finally took the pendant around her neck and held it up.

            "I have something I need to tell you," he said quietly.  She smiled.

            "I know."  The two words expressed so much as she reached below his neckline and found the leather cord.  She followed it around to the front and with a slight tug, the scarlet stone, with the thin gold cross holding it to the string now rested on his chest.  "It's taken a few week to find you here in Ireland," she said with a smile, "I was afraid you wouldn't remember me."

            "How could I forget," he set, giving her another kiss and her eyes fluttered shut, "when we belong to each other."


	7. Ch 7:Who Knows Where the Time Goes

Sung to the tune of Dido's 'My Lover's Gone'

My fanfic's gone

It is no longer there online

Can anyone

Tell me where to go

To scream out loud

Instead of killing random

People outside

Unless with tranq gun they'll never

Get me calm again

I've lost years again

Woot.  Anyway.  If anyone wants a RELIABLE site on which to read this fic, I'll start uploading it on my yahoo group Rose With Thorns, or on Usuyami no Sekai: Lost in the World of Darkness site, cuz I'm really sick of what happens on   I understand they have a lot of different categories with people uploading everyday around the clock, but this is just crazy.

Chapter 7: Who Knows Where the Time Goes

By Sandy Denny (because I realized up until now I've never given credit where credit is due)  
  
Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving  
But how can they know it's time for them to go?  
Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming  
I have no thought of time  
For who knows where the time goes?  
Who knows where the time goes?  
Sad, deserted shore, your fickle friends are leaving  
Ah, but then you know it's time for them to go  
But I will still be here, I have no thought of leaving  
I do not count the time  
For who knows where the time goes?  
Who knows where the time goes?  
And I am not alone while my love is near me  
I know it will be so until it's time to go  
So come the storms of winter and then the birds in spring again  
I have no fear of time  
For who knows how my love grows?  
And who knows where the time goes?

Robin had been awake for only a moment before there was a gasp from the other side of the bed, and she rolled over to see Amon sitting up.  She touched his forearm, and he turned towards her.

"Was it a dream?"

He nodded, and she sat up.  "Can you tell me what was in it?" she asked gently.  He shook his head and Robin could only close her eyes and steady her self.  It probably involved their discovery.

Suddenly a warm, strong arm found its way around her and she found herself in a very similar situation to the night before.  "Happy Birthday," he said before kissing her.

She certainly liked waking up like this.  After a brief moment, he pulled away.  Inching out of the bed, crawling backwards, there was something about the way he moved…

The instant memory of her muttering her lessons in Italian came to her mind.  To fornicate was to sin…

She rolled over and stumbled out of the bed sheets.  The bathroom door was shut and she could hear the sound of a shower.  Really, she didn't need one, so Robin shucked her clothing in a pile on the floor and pulled on some sweatpants and a shirt.  While working one foot into the sweatpants, Robin stubbed her toe on the cardboard box on the floor.

His present!

Scrambling for the bag in the corner she fumbled to wrap the box as quickly as possible and placed the bow on top.  She'd give him the other present later.

The shower was turned off and Amon reentered, in clothing similar to hers.  From the looks of it they'd be spending the day in.  He leaned against the door.

Robin smiled up at him.  "Sorry.  Last minute wrapping."

He nodded, and she stood up, brushing her knees off, and she followed him down to the kitchen downstairs.

He made them breakfast.  Toast and bacon, since he couldn't really make anything else.  She didn't seem to mind.

Even with his back turned, he knew she was staring at him, and she probably had her head cocked to the side, one hand cupping her face and the other one lazily stirring the tea. 

He hadn't quite expected to spend Christmas morning waking up from a dream in which she and him were in bed together, and then realize that they really _were_ in bed together.

"Merry Christmas, Amon," came a soft voice, and he turned from putting his dish in the sink.  Her pale face was lit up with a small smile.  Robin raised her mug for a moment before bringing it to her lips, in a small mock toast.  Amon walked over and sat down with her.

The snow outside was a bit lighter today, not that it mattered, since he wasn't going to go to town.  If he just kept them safe until midnight…

"You're not angry, are you?"  The timid voice shook him from his deep thought.

"What?"

Robin played with a chip on the side of the mug, biting her lip for a moment.  "For kissing you…the other night."

What was he supposed to say to that?

The look he gave her from the other side of the table was positively devilish, covered only by a few strands of hair.  He had taken to wearing it back, since the other day.  "I just wish I hadn't been so drunk, really."

Damn the blood that now made its way to her cheeks.  She fumbled with the pendant and looked up at him. Robin had always imagined, well, rather, dreamed of kissing him, but the afterwards?

That was the strange part.

"Juliano always liked you," she said quietly.  "He just called you a different name, but I know he liked you."

"Me?" he let out something that sounded a bit like a snort.  "I highly doubt that Robin.  After," he trailed off.  "I wasn't the happiest of souls.  And you can probably testify I'm not exactly the-"

"He said you had a lot of power."  She had cut him off, and she still wasn't looking at him directly.  How could she?

"What are you getting at, Robin?"

The tears came without her consent, wet and warm as they slid down her cheeks.  "That's the reason I was sent to STN-J in the first place."  She stumbled onward before he could say anything.  "They wanted to know what type of threat you would render to Salomon if they simply let you continue on."

It took him only a moment to process the information.

"Is that the reason they tested me?" his voice was suddenly serious, the tone in which he was speaking just moments ago of their kiss in gone.

"What?"

"Your apartment.  When I shot…"

She shook her head furiously, a new wave of tears seeking exit from her eyes.  "I knew you were-that you'd-but it wasn't me."  Finally, she bravely looked up at him.  "I couldn't," her voice cracked.

It was the truth.  Even when she had her suspicions that it was he who assisted in the attack, something in her heart would simply not allow her to say those words, to type them on the screen.  She'd cared for him too much.

He didn't say anything for a moment.  Robin felt fear cause her stomach to drop.   She wasn't afraid of him; just simply afraid he'd be upset with her.  With all that had happened within the past few months…

Amon meant the world to her.

"Why couldn't you, Robin?" he asked softly, a guarded look masking whatever he really was thinking.

"You…I couldn't let you disappear." 

He nodded, his face softening as he leaned forward and took her hand in his, tracing the lines of her palm, leaving her skin to feel as if it were on fire where his finger had just been.  He concentrated on the thin 'M' made of crisscrossed wrinkles while he spoke.  "I felt the same…if not more strongly.  I knew I was marked, and I only assumed it was after Zaizen's test.  In the apartment."  He closed his eyes for a moment.  "Doujima was much smarter than I ever gave her credit for, then."

"No," she said quietly, and she felt a mixture of relief and dismay at his actions. "It couldn't have been-"

His grip on her hand tightened as he stood up, and she stood up with him.  "I'm glad you shared that with me, Robin."  It was the end of that conversation, she knew.  He led her though the room with the piano to the living room.  A neatly wrapped package sat on the one, slightly more faded armchair that neither one of them could explain.  She turned to go up the stairs.  "Let me get your present."

He let go of her hand with something akin to reluctance.

Robin had started unwrapping the present, curiosity showing as a thin eyebrow disappeared behind blonde bangs.    
            Amon sat next to her, leaning back against the sofa and watching as the young woman next to him finally got the paper off.  She'd probably not opened many presents before.

"Oh, Amon!" suddenly a pair of arms were flung around his neck.  She sat back up after a moment.  Her eyes were wide with happiness.

He could feel it, and damn it, he couldn't hide it.  There was warmth suddenly in his cheeks.

A coffee maker wasn't something extravagant, but it sure could make Robin Sena happy.

"Thank you so much!  I'm going to go stick it in the kitch-Wait, you have to open my present!"  She placed the box on the floor delicately, and got her present from the chair.  Hastily wrapped, tape askew; it looked as though a young child had wrapped it.  Robin bit her lip when she handed it to him. 

It was heavy.  She was _not_ supposed to be purchasing him something…

But would last night's kiss, or this morning's have ever happened otherwise?

In that case...

"Robin, don't waste-"

"Just open it!" she edged closer, excitement lighting up her face.  He looked down and took the paper off slowly at first, but at her urging, tore it off in one fistful.

It was a laptop.  New, top-of-the-line.  He looked over at her and smiled.

"Do you like it?" she asked tentatively, as if unsure how he'd react. 

He reached a hand up and held her face, reveling for a moment in the novelty of this intimacy.  "I love it…What about yours?"

He was rewarded with a feather-light kiss on the lips.  "I can say the same."

He played with a stray lock of her blonde hair, and Robin's eyes closed as his hand went to the back of her neck, massaging the skin there.  A small moan escaped her lips.  She leaned in closer, and she closed the space between them.

Kissing was, nothing new to him.  He'd kissed a number of women before.  He hadn't much time for dating, but he had kissed before.

But this was kissing Robin.

It was a rush of adrenaline.  A chill up his spine and a feeling of free falling.  And as her lips came back to his, he realized something else.

He knew what she was thinking.

_It was the abbey, the two of them sitting on the edge of a bridge.  He was young, and he now realized, stupid, but she had followed him, a little shadow for those few blessed weeks._

_They were looking at the necklaces, as they had just been given them.  Hers was older, left by her mother and slightly more ornate.  Robin was biting her lip as she held it to the light.  "How is this going to protect us, when we are in need of saving?"_

Amon had not even though before responding.  "Who cares?  We'll work together. Protect each other."

_Her little self looked up at him, surveying his face, before nodding.  In the few weeks since she had arrived, the little –then towhead blonde with the big green eyes had seemed wise beyond her years._

_He had made a firm vow to find her someday, and to make sure she was safe._

Robin sat back now, those same eyes fluttering as her breath came in small gasps.  Gone was the little girl, and in her place was a dreadfully tempting woman.

Something was in her hand, clutched behind his neck.  The cold medal now hung on the same chain as the aforementioned charm that protected him from other witches.  He looked from the new charm to Robin. 

"It's a Raphael the Archangel medal."

"Robin, I haven't been to church since I was at the abbey, and even then…I've never been religious."

It was her turn to play with a lock of his hair, and he noticed now she had somehow managed to untie it.  "He's the patron saint of guardian angels…I thought it was fitting."

"Thank you."

She smiled.  "It was either that or Saint Benedict, protector against witchcraft, and with recent events as they were…" she laughed.

Amon planted a kiss on the top of her head, and as they settled in to a comfortable silence, he saw her eyes widen for a moment, and suddenly a roaring fire was across the way in the fireplace.  He chuckled.

"You really do light my fire, Robin."

Robin looked up at the man seated next to her, his face a strange sight for her.

He looked at peace.

She moved closer, closing the space between her and his shoulder, and inhaled.  He always smelled wonderful.

            How old was he?  The question seemed to ask itself, without her permission. He was younger than Nagira, she knew, and he had just turned 28.  And Amon was definitely older than her or Michael or Doujima…

            "I'm 25."

            Se jumped and turned her head to look up at him, confused.  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

            "We we're holding hands.  I couldn't help it.  I apologize."

            "You've got nothing to apologize for."

            He looked at her, incredulous.  "I should have told you how old I was before I-"

            "Before I kissed you?  It doesn't bother me, Amon."

            Amon squinted his eyes.  "Really?"

            Robin bit her lip, and nodded.  They were just too close for her not to close the difference.

            There was a click and a chuckle, and Amon jerked his head back as Nagira started to ask something.

            Robin could already feel her cheeks burning.

            "Is this old news, or should I go alert the masses waiting for this event of epi-"

            "Oh, fuck off, brother," Amon sighed heavily and got up from the couch, leaving Robin high and dry as Nagira seated himself in the chair next to her.  He heard his tread on the stairs.

            Nagira grinned at Robin, who now was making sound similar to that of a beached fish.  He reached over and patted her hand.

            "I was just busting his balls, Robin."  He leaned forward.  "I knew this was going to happen as soon as I left you two alone.  When did he sweep you off your feet?"  Robin stood up and busied herself with a few things in the curio on the other side of the room.  Nagira put up his hands.  "Fine.  Okay.  Well, I'm only here for a little bit.  Tell Amon and you about my most recent encounter with Michael."

            "Michael?" she questioned.  When had this happened?

            "Yeah. He didn't tell you?"

            Robin turned, and he could tell there were wheels turning behind those light-auburn locks.  "If you'll excuse me, Nagira, I have something I really must take care of."

            Nagira wandered towards the kitchen to find something to drink.  He'd rather not be in Amon's room at the moment.

            Amon had finished checking his second Glock and was about to move on to the Berretta that was packed next to it when a flash of fire in front of him caught his attention, and he automatically whipped around.

            "That was inappropriate, Robin."

            She glared at him for a moment, and he was surprised by the novel expression.  "You said you would not talk to me like a child.  And you told me that we must share everything.  You made me promise.  You promised."

            He remembered those vows.  They were long before the English motel; they had been said while they were still in Japan, when he didn't know if he'd make it as the Orbo flowed through his body.  It was then that they found out large amounts of Orbo seemed to work as a catalyst of sorts to awaken powers, and that he surely wouldn't have a problem with a Hunter, should the chance encounter happen.

            "I did."  He couldn't meet her eyes because he knew he had not held up to his end, even given circumstances what they were.

            "Why didn't you tell me?" in a voice so soft.  It hit his ears painfully though.  Amon stood up and crossed his arms.

            "I would have, if I had had time."

            "Time?" one light eyebrow started to rise delicately. 

            "He called me yesterday, and then I went to wake you up and you were gone.  And when you finally came home, we we-"

            "Yes!"  That beautiful flush had come back to her cheeks.  "I understand.  Alright.  I'm sorry."

            He now stood so close she had to lean on the door, and he was planning on getting her back for startling him before.  "I'd never do that to you, you know."

            She nodded.

            "Why are were you so embarrassed when Nagira walked into the room?"

            Robin looked uncomfortable as she searched for an explanation.  "When you grow up in a convent, living a life alongside nuns…Doujima's soaps are the only place that I've seen people in a bed, after-"

            "Sex?"

            She hissed at him, and he laughed.  Robin crossed her arms.  "Amon, stop that.  I'm sorry that I'm not as worldly as Touko was."

            It stung, and the look in her eyes as he forced himself to turn before he said something he didn't mean. Amon sat back down.

            "If you want to hook up that coffee pot you can downstairs.  There should be room on the counter for it."

            There was silence and he supposed she had left.

            Slender arms wound around his shoulders suddenly, and he felt warm breath on his neck.  He turned, and pushing a suitcase off the bed, made room for her.  Her eyes were full of tears as she looked up at him.

            "I don't want to fight with you.  I don't want you made at me.  Not today, Amon.  I don't want that to be my last memory."

            Amon made sure that when he made eye contact with her, it was steady and he hoped conveyed his conviction.  "You are not going to die today.  Or anytime soon, if I have my way about it.  Robin, this is the second time you've cried today.  Are you feeling alright?"

            She wiped at her face, and he helped.  Anything to be close.  To touch her.

            "I'm fine.  I'm making up for lost years of crying."

            "Well stop."

            It caught her off guard and when she looked up he smiled.

            "It's your birthday."  Robin nodded, and after a brief kiss, he finished his excuse.  "And Christmas."

            She smiled.  "Of course."

A.N.  An apology for not getting this out sooner but…Hey, you know how they've been covering that massive flood and they're interviewing all these weirdoes about how all those bridges in South Jersey were collapsed?  Yeah.  Guess where the computer I had this saved on was at the time?  Eak.  Yeah.

I will shoot myself from now on every time I don't make a back-up copy…Luckily, by some stroke of cosmic luck; my house was YARDS away from the edge of the water.  And I have to drive an hour out of my way (well _I_ don't drive, cuz I can't.  However, a lovely little '85 Trans Am bought for a cup of coffee in a 'oh so me' twist may soon be in my driveway for me) to get home.  Which bugged me.  A lot.

            Plus, with school looming in the future - 'taking Princeton's American History course even though I'm a sophomore in H.S. (weirdo thing I got excepted for.  I take it and score really well I don't have to take courses when I start college) and the fact that I'm an acting teacher and I just started to tutor a little girl and I work as a secretary when I get the chance for my father-I'm hoping I can fart out most of this, but since this story is taking on a mind of its own….

            Who knows.

            Aywhoo.  I have a fridge full of mountain dew in my room.  All is fine in the world of me.

BTW: I nearly died when they said the opened the gates farther up north and waited to flood some of us southern towns.  Then nothing happened and they officials were like 'uh…guess it's in the bogs".  Okay, so anyone in NJ who can't figure out why this fall the rate of deaths from West Nile Virus goes up, I just told you why.

Uhho um, Drag Queen/Gay!Inuyasha scares me.  Sorry.  Watching right now.

Whooo Review Time.

Hexes: Gee.  Thank you.  Yeah, the ending was a bit confusing, but I can only point you back to chapter one when Robin was in the tub and had an ever so cliché flashback.  I didn't want to foreshadow to the point where everyone simply knew it was Amon.

Indirockqueen:  Fluff gives me fuzzies.  And vice versa.  'Fabu'…I like it.

Ayoka: Thankya veruh much.

No prob, Yuna.  About confusion at the end, go back to chapter one to the flashback while in the tub.  And thanks about the crying. I just recently had one of those 'steps forward' with a few family members of the male gender after a death in the family, so I guess I was letting me get into my writing, but I'm glad you liked his sob fest.  There MIGHT be one more.  But it won't be for a while.  And I'll keep him in character as much as possible.  I know he wouldn't have cried in the show, but now barriers are gone and it was a private moment, soooo….

Kaidence: :sigh:  I wish I have one too, dear!

Lara1786:  Okay, must rewrite for repost on my Yahoo!group if that's the third review of confusion.  Go to chappy one.  Read flashback.  Now read this chapter's flashback.  Say 'Aawww.  Ohhh, okay I get it now!", please.

And the crying really worked well? Thank you, b/c this entire story is basically a bit like practicing for my novel that I'm writing.  Think, Amon, but hotter, and more smart-assy.  Heeeee.  My main character's name was Robin, but I watched the first epy of WHR, screamed, and ran into my room and started to rewrite my story from scratch with 'Insert good name here' for the m.c.'s name.  Gah.


	8. Please pardon my intrusion

Ahhh, since I can't wait for my chapter to be finished-my comp just died-to post this here's a couple things in this amazing solo author's note. ..

I like the lemons…they smell nice. Whatcha think of creating a slightly more mature version of this fic on my yahoo group: . Just go and join it, and then you can get to ask me all those nagggin' questions. And help me fix the chapter after Robin rests her chin on her forehead…heh.

Anywho, I'll post some polls and stuff…and some pictures. I've nearly finished the first floor in a really annoying, graphic intensive CAD weirdo program my dad uses for his company. Also, I'm not too bad at drawing, so once I get that darn scanner hooked up…hmmmrrrrrrggggg.

So do join my site and vote yay, or nay, or the other three choices…Sexy!Amon is sitting next to me impatiently.

Exhasperated

Rose


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